Chapter Forty Three

Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith and de facto ruler of the Galactic Empire, stood on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Torrent, stoically looking out into the abyss of hyperspace. He was deep in thought, as he had been his every spare moment since the late emperor's fall. For the last several hours, since the start of his impromptu voyage from Coruscant, Vader had been attempting to focus on the premonition that had summoned him from the core to a distant part of the Outer Rim. It had been an indistinct wisp of intuition at best, but the name of a system, some uninhabited waste far off any major hyperspace route, had firmly entrenched itself in his mind, and with it the sense that something of great significance was occurring there, or would occur soon. He had attempted to delve into the premonition, follow it back to its source, but he had been unable to do so, the only clue was the system's unimpressive designation.

Of course, it was distinctly possible that this inability to probe the Force further on the matter was due to the conflict that still roiled deep within him, clouding his thoughts and perception. The harder he suppressed the feelings and indistinct memories, the more persistently they intruded upon his meditations and waking thoughts. Fragments of almost alien emotions, snippets of long-shadowed recollections, faces of those he had cherished, in a life that had ended long ago.

But had it ended, really?

Vader crushed the consideration before it had time to form. No, Anakin Skywalker, for better or worse, was dead; he had killed the Jedi himself, on that day on Coruscant so long ago.

Even with those ancient recollections conquered for the moment, new worries and a tingling of doubt began to intrude again upon his solemn countenance. Executions that he had undertaken, old and recent, began to wear upon him, as they never had before. The gasping, pitiful form of one Captain Needa, slumped on the cold deck at Vader's feet, and for what? Falling victim to a clever bluff from a particularly obnoxious rebel? Was such a failure really worth the price Vader had made him pay? Failure was something to be scorned to be sure, but had he not himself failed far too often over the years? Was not every day, every minute he had allowed himself to submit to that wicked, wrinkled demon a failure in of itself?

Failure…

The blank visage of his only son, immersed completely in bacta, crossed the dark lord's crowded mind now, dispelling other worries as if they were trifles. That Luke even now stood on the brink of life and eternal nothingness, rather than standing at Vader's side on the Star Destroyer's bridge, was a greater failure than any he could contemplate. Half a decade of fevered searching, of dire plotting, of desperate, secret hope, all for naught. Even the news that he possessed a second child, a daughter out among the stars, could not assuage his anguish deep inside. For the longest time, Vader had wondered if he still had any conscience left in his burned and blackened heart, and now he knew that he did, there was no greater wish in the Sith's being than to see it dispelled forever, if only to relieve the pain it poured upon him.

And yet, through it all, there was one glimmer, one undertaking that did not carve away at his craven soul. She stood in silence behind him on the cold deck, awaiting orders, her inner thoughts her own. This former Jedi knight, Aayla Secura, one he had long thought dead in the great purges, had been his salvation. At first, he sought to use her as merely a tool, a weapon Palpatine would predict or prepare for, and she had served to that end superbly. But when he picked her wounded form up from the throne room's chamber when the battle had been won, he had felt something more from her; there was darkness, a need for control and power that could be harnessed and shaped, something he would never have expected from a vanguard of the old order. Nevertheless, it was there, and he had latched onto it, expending his energies in an effort to make an adequate minion, and more, out of the Twi'lek. It was that effort, perhaps more than anything else that had kept him sane since his son's fall.

Still, there was something in this new apprentice of his that was not right. She hid something, a secret so deep and wrenching that not even the vast changes she had undergone in the short period since their first fateful duel could force it to the surface. She had told him of her origins, of the wormhole and the starship Enterprise, but there was more to the tale, Vader knew it. Aayla would tell him in time, and for the moment, he would allow her to do it of her own volition. But he would know the full story, and there was nothing the woman could do to keep it from him.

A time later, the bow of the Torrent again shore through the cold void of realspace, angling into the system Lord Vader had instructed her captain to bring him to. Designated Rim 2101-831-5400 by the Imperial Navigational Authority, the star system was quite unremarkable, save for the hyperspace-disrupting gravitational effects of its primary. As his ship slipped past one of the system's ancient gas giants, Captain Meterin Coloth wondered silently if any Imperial officer had even been within light years of the desolate collection of worthless gas and rock. He certainly had not wished to be the first, but Darth Vader had "requested" the usage of his Star Destroyer, and no sane man would refuse him.

As he surreptitiously watched the Sith Lord and his Twi'lek servant from across the warship's bridge, Coloth wondered if there was some malevolent force in the universe piling difficulty upon difficulty onto his shoulders for its own twisted pleasure. He had been perfectly happy in his patrol duties along the Mid Rim, the master of his own ship and his own schedule, only being forced to second string at formal functions, which he rarely attended anyways. Politicians didn't sit well with him, and admirals even less.

But here he was, playing chauffer to the most powerful being in the galaxy, his command usurped and his own performance under continued scrutiny. Ever since the fiasco with that damned Enterprise, her pompous captain, and those infernal infiltrators, his nearly impeccable military record had been tarnished, and he had been recalled indefinitely to the core. True, the escape of the alien ship's command crew was not directly his fault, and he had safely turned the thousand odd lesser crew over to Imperial Intelligence, but the incident had not reflected well on his command, or his crew. It still might not have been so bad, but after his debriefing with Lord Vader, the new imperial leader seemed to have taken a liking to Coloth. Either that or this was all part of some elaborate punishment. Even being in the same room with the Force wizard was extremely unsettling, and Coloth had never been one to be intimidated by his superiors.

The captain was roused from his brooding by an approaching lieutenant. "What is it?"

The younger officer snapped to attention. "Sir, Communications is registering several Imperial transponder codes further in-system, below the solar plane."

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Our ships? The recent operation to choke off all of the Rebel's remaining bases and covert routes was high priority, but why would any sector command authorize the placements of warships here? I doubt even the Rebels have ever heard of this system."

The lieutenant had no answer.

"You've found something, captain?"

Coloth hadn't even had the slightest inkling that Vader had moved from his observation point across the bridge, but the ominous mechanical breathing that now emanated from over his shoulder made it clear that Vader's skills were not limited to intimidation and brute force.

"Yes, Lord Vader," the captain said, turning to the armored cyborg without trying to look distressed. "Imperial warships have been detected towards the interior of the system." He nodded meaningfully to lieutenant, who was similarly attempting to maintain his cool.

"The ships have been identified as the HIMS Broadsword, Paramount, and Carida 34, sir. They appear to be holding position several million kilometers below this system's primary."

"Set course at maximum velocity."

The officer offered a deep bow in response to the Sith's order, and sparing a glance for confirmation from his direct superior, which was immediately granted, moved off to relay the course change.

When he had gone, Coloth spared a glance back at the dark lord, who had turned his attention back to the main viewport at the front of the bridge, now framing the remote system's slowly dying star.

"If I may ask, my Lord, did you know that there were other Imperial ships in this system before our arrival?"

For nearly a minute, Vader did not respond, or make any indication he had even heard the man, and Coloth's heart began to throb with uncomfortable nervousness. At last however, he inclined his head, as if in thought. "The Broadsword is one of Admiral Durnstga's ships. It was likely part of the task force that routed the remnant of the Rebel fleet yesterday."

Coloth was genuinely surprised. "Routed? I did not hear anything about such a victory over fleet channels."

Vader pivoted his nightmarish mask in the captain's direction. "The information has not yet reached official channels."

There was an air of finality in his tone that snuffed out any further inquiries on the subject Coloth might have had, and when Vader paced away, back to his former observation position and his silently waiting servant, the captain did not follow. Whether he intended it or not, and Coloth very much suspected he did, Vader's manner was quite effective at quashing curiosity and banter, to the point where it even disrupted typical military decorum. That part, at least, the captain didn't mind initially, but as his time with the dark lord wore on, he found himself wishing more and more for a pompous admiral or chatty dignitary to look after instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of sublight travel, the Torrent at last entered imagining and hailing range of the other Imperial vessels, the effective range of both reduced by the proximity of the star. However, when the starship's comm officers signaled the Broadsword, Imperial-II class Star Destroyer and presumed leader of the task force, they received only static in return.

"Give me a visual." Meterin Coloth a stood with his arms crossed behind his back, trying to maintain an aura of control, despite the fact that Lord Vader stood close at his side, watching every move from behind his opaque visor plates.

The center section of the viewport flashed from displaying the starfield beyond to an image of the three imperial vessels, the warship in question flanked by a Victory-class destroyer and a Lancer frigate. But there was more in the image than a simple sampling of the Imperial starfleet; a huge field of debris surrounded the group like the rings of a gas giant. Blast-scoured hunks of reddish metal and metallic skeletons of unknown design intermingled with more familiar gray and black armor, with the smashed hull of an Imperial frigate quite obvious amidst the wreckage. The surviving ships also showed signs of battle, each covered in numerous patches of vaporized metal; the Broadsword's terraced face was marred by several huge gashes that had been chewed through a dozen interior decks.

Coloth and his command crew were in awe; the volume of wreckage encircling the ships and the massive battle scars on the capital vessels were signs of a conflict that had rarely been seen since the Clone Wars, nearly a quarter century ago. Vader seemed relatively unfazed, although he had dropped his gloved hands to his sides from their previously crossed posture.

"Sir," an officer in the crew pit below reported. "The Broadsword has sustained significant damage to their bridge section, as well as their main transmission array. It is impossible for them to respond to our hails." That much was obvious; from the amount of scarring on the destroyer's command tower, Coloth would be surprised if any of the bridge crew were still alive.

"Try to contract the Paramount and Carida. See if we can ascertain what happened here." Coloth turned to an attending officer. "Commander Cebbe, inform the medical stations of our situation, and tell them to prepare for rescue operations."

As the bridge officers hurried to execute their duties, Darth Vader and Aayla Secura observed the scene of destruction in silence, mulling over its meaning. Both could feel uncounted numbers of confused and injured humans on the surviving ships and in the wreckage, as well as a few life forces not so readily identifiable. But more than that, there was something else about the scene; something that did not belong.

"Master, do you sense it?" Aayla ventured at last, stepping forward a few paces. "A disturbance in the Force, unlike anything I've ever felt before."

Vader did not respond, but he too felt the strange sensation, as if a thousand possible futures were colliding in the space around them, and at their center, a point of searing clarity, where the life energies of more beings than a single reality could possibly hold converged. It was a window, a rift between what was and what should be. This is the place. This is what I felt.

"Sir, we've made contact with both vessels, and they are requesting medical assistance and aid in recovering escape pods from the wreckage field."

Coloth nodded. "Lieutenant Defruen, I want you to take command of the relief effort. Use as much of the shuttle complement as is necessary, and make sure the medical staff is ready to accept wounded."

"Sir, the captain of the Paramount is also requesting a communication with you, immediately."

"Put it through." This order came not from the captain, but from Vader himself, who was already making for the holonet comm station at the rear of the bridge, his Twi'lek in tow. Coloth gritted his teeth in irritation and followed close behind.

In the alcove, which housed the main holo-projection suite, the image of a balding human with a short beard shimmered to life. "Captain, I am grateful for any assistance…" The man trailed off when he noticed that it was not Coloth or any other Imperial captain in the projector's field of vision, but rather a three-meter giant, cloaked in black. "Lord… Lord Vader! I am honored."

"Dispense with the pleasantries, captain. I want to know what happened here."

The officer on the other vessel gulped, and then nodded to someone out of the image. "I have Commander Barden with me, executive officer of the Broadsword. He would be better able to explain our situation, my lord."

As Vader waited in silence, the captain disappeared and was replaced by a younger man, his right eye covered with a bacta patch. He offered a nod of respect to the Sith lord, an effort that clearly pained him.

"Tell me, commander."

"Well, Lord Vader, after we received orders from Fleet Command to begin sweeping the back hyperspace lanes for any suspicious activity, the Abolition and the Broadsword, under the command of Admiral Durnstga and my superior, Captain Telbain, respectively, broke from our main fleet group to pursue a hyperspace ghost we had detected passing through the fringes of Hutt space, we tracked it to this system, and managed to make contact with an Imperial agent onboard before it escaped."

Barden broke off for a moment, stifling a series of coughs that racked his diaphragm.

"I apologize, Lord Vader. The agent activated a hyperwave homing beacon, which would reveal the location of the ship's destination, and the hidden Rebel rendezvous point. The admiral left the system to join an assault group and lead the attack, but he left Captain Telbain behind, to investigate an object that the Rebels had scanned before escaping, and to intercept any Rebel forces that managed to flee his assault. The object turned out to be a derelict vessel of unknown design, no life signs registering. We were about to mount a search of the ship when we received reinforcement from a small task force sent by Admiral Durnstga, and were instructed to prepare an ambush for any unidentified starships entering the system. One, a Mon Calamari warship matching the one we had tracked escaping the system earlier, appeared, and we attempted to destroy it.

"Unfortunately, the starship was able to elude the task force, by usage of some kind of anomaly that removed it completely from local space. Determined not to lose them, Captain Telbain took the Broadsword and two Lancer-class frigates through the anomaly as well, despite its unknown nature. After incurring minor damage from some kind of energy feedback against our deflector screens, the strike force emerged in a star system that did not register on our navigational charts. Locating the Rebel cruiser, the captain ordered an attack, but before the ship could be destroyed, a pair of alien vessels of unknown construction or origin opened fire on our ships. Despite that fact that their weapons technology was markedly inferior to our own, they managed to destroy one of the escorting frigates, and covered the Rebel ship long enough for it to escape back through the anomaly."

"The Broadsword destroyed the hostile vessels, but we were quickly overtaken by numerous enemy reinforcements, hundreds of ships, many of them more massive than our own. Captain Telbain ordered us to remain and fight, and we managed to destroy eight enemy capital ships before the second frigate was lost with all hands. At that point, a withdrawal was ordered through the anomaly, but a large portion of the alien fleet pursued. After returning to this system, we coordinated with the Paramount and the remaining Lancer, and destroyed more than a dozen alien vessels as they came through the anomaly. However, before they stopped sending ships through, one managed to break through the kill zone and collided with the Broadsword. Most of its bridge crew was killed, including the captain. I was lucky to escape alive."

Vader considered the report in silence, and then looked back at the commander, who appeared to be breathing very heavily now. "What of the Rebel ship?"

"The Paramount never recorded it coming back through, lord. It must have either been destroyed during transit, or exited at another point," the officer replied, wheezing with every breath.

"And the derelict?"

"Destroyed by crossfire during the battle, lord."

Darth Vader stayed motionless a moment longer, and then turned from the projector. "You did well to survive the incompetence of your captain, Commander. See to it that you receive proper medical attention."

"Th… thank you, lord."

As Vader walked back out onto the bridge, he found himself again deep in thought. No, the Rebel ship hadn't been destroyed; he knew that much to be true. But beyond that, his foresight failed to pierce the shadows of the future, or even the growing chaos of the present. This anomaly, this rift, had to be of the same type that had brought Aayla and the Enterprise into this realm. In a way, it was responsible for all that had occurred in the last few weeks; his liberation, and his new torment. And here it was again, beckoning him into an unknown and hostile reality, and beyond that, a lone Rebel vessel, one he sensed held some great importance. But again, he could not be sure. The clouds around his inner eye were too thick, and the ravages of doubt still assaulted his senses from the deep recesses of his mind.

Perhaps some small diversion was necessary to clear away the st4ruggle within him and open the Force up to him again as it once had been, so long ago. This alien race provided the perfect opportunity, and were he to spearhead a campaign into their territory, the benefits would be threefold. Not only would it allow him to taste combat again and clear his mind of worries and the clouds of confusion, he could spread order, true order, to both the peoples of the alien realm, and to his own. He knew that many in the Empire still doubted their new ruler and his motives; unifying the people against a new common threat, alien aggressors from a foreign galaxy, was the perfect way to erase Palpatine's decadence in favor of order, Vader's order, and eventual peace. A true peace, one without the corruption that had marred all of his life. Still, a new doubt surfaced in his mind; this sort of machination was a plan that Palpatine might indulge in, and had many times in the past.

He may have been a corrupt madman, but Palpatine did know how to control the hearts and minds of the people. Such manipulation was necessary for rule, no matter how distasteful. It is not his way, it is the way of the Sith. And I am still Sith.

Nevertheless, there were elements of Palpatine's legacy that yet needed to be fully erased. Some of his supporters, politicians, soldiers, and the Force adepts that he had bent to his will, would never swear allegiance to Vader's new order, and might even seek to undermine it. That could not be allowed.

"Aayla," he rumbled.

"Yes, my lord?"

"I have a task for you. It will be invaluable to your training."

"I shall complete it, without fail. What would you have me do?"

"Travel to the Ziost system. There, you will find another attempting to immerse them self in the teachings of the Dark Side. You will confront them, and determine were their allegiances lie: with Palpatine's order, or mine. If their disloyalty is evident, you are to destroy them. If they submit to me, you are to take them with you back to Coruscant. There, in the Palace Library, you will find a directory, which contains the locations of all of all of Palpatine's hidden fortress worlds and covert contacts. Investigate each, and determine the loyalties of those you find. When this task is complete, await my return on Coruscant, and see to it that the provisional government follows my instructions, as I will have delievered to them from time to time."

Aayla bowed. "It shall be done, my lord."

With that, Vader turned away. "Do not falter, apprentice. This is your greatest test. Succeed, and you may one day know the full power of the Sith, and the order it can bring. Fail and you die. There are no compromises."